


And in the End, a Beginning

by Ruuger



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Community: help_haiti, Drunkenness, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/pseuds/Ruuger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been through a lot together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2258

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vjs2259](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/gifts).



> Written for vjs2259 for the Help_Haiti auction.

"Some abnormalities in the yellow cell count, but nothing-" Franklin was interrupted in mid-thought by the sound of someone knocking on the window of the isolab. He reluctantly looked up from the corpse he was examining to find Ivanova standing on the other side of the glass.

"Pause recording."

Franklin nodded to his assistant to continue prepping the body and walked to the comm system by the window. "What brings you over, Lieutenant-Commander?"

"Just thought I'd drop by to see how you're settling in. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

Franklin shook his head. "No, no. I could use the break." He removed his surgical mask and gloves and tossed them into the hazmat container. "I've been on call for almost twenty hours today. Seems like every time I try to leave something new happens."

"Tell me about it. So you've been keeping busy then?"

"I've been here for less than a week and I've already had the chance to examine two alien species that I'd never even met before. And that's not even counting the regular patients." He nodded towards the body on the examination table. "Right now I'm doing an autopsy on a pak'ma'ra at Mr. Garibaldi's behest.

"The missing lurkers?"

"Uh huh. It's a myth, though, that decomposing human flesh is a pak'ma'ra delicacy. They are carrion eaters, yes, but there has never been any evidence of them actually using humans as food beyond few isolated incidents. In fact, some studies suggest that despite their claim that they can eat anything, most pak'ma'ra cannot actually metabolize proteins found in Earth mammals due to a condition similar to lactose intolerance in humans. When-"

Ivanova scrunched up her face. "Please, Doctor, spare me the details. I just had lunch."

Franklin laughed. "I'm sorry. It's just that being stationed here is a xenobiologist's dream. The possibilities for research are simply astonishing." He glanced at the pak'ma'ra's body, still being prepped by his assistant. "It's a very interesting place you have here."

"Don't I know." She returned his smile. "I think I'll let you get back to your work. If you have any questions... "

"Actually, I do have one request. Since I don't know anyone on the station yet besides you and the Commander, I was wondering if you could brief me in on what's what on the station. Over dinner, perhaps?"

Ivanova's eyes narrowed. "Did you just ask me out, Doctor?"

Franklin raised his hands in a placating gesture and laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it, Lieutenant-Commander"


	2. 2259

"This is completely unacceptable, Doctor!"

Franklin wouldn't have assumed it to be possible for anyone to angrily slam open a sliding pressure door, but somehow Ivanova managed to do it as she stormed into the MedLab. The med techs scattered in all directions to give her way as she marched straight to Franklin and slapped her palms on his desk.

"You better have a very good reason why you've held the captain of the Tak'na'cha in quarantine for over two days."

Franklin saved the report he had been working on and leaned back in his chair to be able to look her in the eye.

"He showed symptoms that were indicative of a possible Drafa-infection. With what happened to the Markab, I had to make sure the disease had not jumped species again. Why does it even matter to you that he's in quarantine?"

"It matters to me because his ship had a thruster malfunction and was given permission to remain on the emergency orbit as the repairs were made. And it matters to me because thanks to you, it has now been stuck on that orbit for over two days, wrecking havoc on incoming traffic, because his crew refuses to move the ship without their captain."

"I'm sorry, but that's the procedure. If he has the disease, he-"

"If he had the disease, he'd be dead already."

"It's not-"

"You have twelve hours, Doctor. After that I'm taking a starfury and nudging the damn ship on a collision course towards Epsilon Eridiani."

She straightened up and turned on her heels, heading towards the exit. Franklin called after her.

"Susan, wait." She paused at the door, but didn't turn around. Franklin made sure that none of the techs were still in the room before continuing. "I had breakfast with Sheridan this morning and he mentioned that the PSI Corps are picking up Talia today." Her could see her tense, her hands clenching into fists. "If you need someone to talk to..."

"Just make sure that the Captain is out of the quarantine by tomorrow morning," she said, and walked out of the Medlab without looking back.


	3. 2261 (March)

It was the hour between shifts in C&amp;C, when all the docking bays were closed for maintenance and there was only skeleton crew manning the pit. Hour of the wolf, as her father used to call it, and as she looked out of the observation window at the rotating starscape outside, Ivanova found herself wishing that she had a glass of vodka to keep the wolf at bay. She looked at her datapad, a final check to make sure that the names and IDs were correct, and then pushed a button on the console. After a few minutes, she saw the small black caskets appear one by one from the docking bay, travelling in an orderly row towards the blinding orb that was Epsilon Eridiani.

"From the stars we came. From the stars we return. From now untill the end of time. We therefore commit these bodies to the deep."

She repeated the words for every batch of bodies, watching them disappear into the corona of the sun before sending out the next one. There were so many of them these days. Between casualties from the war and the influx of refugees, the death rate on the station was higher than ever, and some days she found herself wondering how long it would take for them to start running out of coffins.

Most days, the observation deck was constantly booked for wakes and memorial services, but there were also those who had no-one to mourn for them, no-one to afford to have their bodies sent back home. People whose bodies were forgotten in the station morgue and then periodically cleaned out like so much trash. There had been talk about conserving resources - of mass graves, mass cremations - but Ivanova felt that this small ceremony was one act of humanity and respect that she refused to give up. Under her supervision the lost and the forgotten were then sent to the stars during downtime, when their last journey would cause as litlle disturbance to the stations' running as possible.

There was only one coffin left. She checked the records again - name, identicard number, and a blank space where the next of kin should have been - but didn't launch the casket, and instead returned to her own console.

She was working on the paperwork for a food shipment from Minbar when she heard someone enter.

"I wondered if you would come. Doctor Hobbs told me that you had been coming over to visit her." She put away the papers and looked at Franklin. "Who is she?"

"Nobody." Franklin ran his hand over his face and sighed. "Somebody. It doesn't matter."

He reached to rub his wrist but stopped when he noticed that she was looking, and instead walked to the observation window.

She followed him.

"Yes it does, Stephen."

For a few minutes they just stood there in silence, watching the maintbots clear debris from the station orbit.

"Do you want to do it?" she finally asked, but he shook his head. She let her palm brush against the back of his hand, and then when he didn't resist, took his hand in hers, and then pressed the button to send Cailyn James' body into the sun.

"From the stars we came. From the stars we return. From now untill the end of time. We therefore commit these bodies to the deep."

"Amen," Franklin whispered.

They remained in the window long after the coffin had disappeared into the glare of the sun. When the crew for the early shift began to trickle in, she let go of his hand. When he turned to leave, she gave him a small smile and nudged him in the arm.

"C'mon. My shift is over and I think I still have enough real coffee left in my quarters for a cup or two."


	4. 2261 (November)

He found her at the cryo room. She was standing in front of the capsules, her arm shaking with effort as she took support from the wall. He thought about commenting on the fact that she should still be in bed, but decided against it, and instead just wrapped his arm around her, silently offering her support.

"I've contacted Laura Rosen," he said, looking at the same label that she was staring.

_Subject: Marcus Cole. Designation: ranger. Status: Deceased._

"We're researching if it would be possible to use the device to reverse what happened, but so far we haven't found any indication that it could be done."

She nodded, but didn't say anything.

"We need to make the decision soon. The cryostasis units on the station are not meant for long-time use, and if we want to keep him-" He paused, considering his words. He'd meant to say "keep him alive" but there was no life left in Marcus, nothing left but an empty shell that they were trying to keep unchanged in the desperate hope that his soul could one day be restored to it. "-if we want to keep him in cryo, we need to transfer him to Earth." He paused again, carefully choosing his words. "But we have to also consider the alternative."

He'd given this speech so many times, to so many people, but it had never been this hard. He turned to look at Ivanova. She was still staring straight ahead, her lips a tight line in her pale face.

"He doesn't have any family, no-one we could ask to make that decision." He took a deep breath. "I think he'd want it to be you."

She was silent for a while, her lips trembling in an effort to hold back the tears, and when she finally spoke, her voice was small and broken. "I can't, Stephen. I just... I can't. Not yet."

"It's okay," he whispered, and pulled her to an embrace, his own eyes also blurring with tears. Suddenly she laughed, a sound so unexpected that for a second he thought that someone else must have entered the room.

"Why am I crying?" she said, tears running down her face even as she looked up at him and smiled. "You're the one who was married to him."

He could feel something break then, all the death and destruction he'd witnessed during the last year catching up with him, and there was nothing he could do but to laugh and cry, all in one, as he held her and let her hold him in return.


	5. 2282

"I don't care if I end up starting another interstellar war - the next person to want to shake my hand, I'm just going to shoot him." Ivanova rummaged her cabinets until she found what she was looking for, a near-empty bottle of Russian vodka. "Aha!"

Franklin sat down on the couch and watched her divide the liquor equally into two glasses. "You're the de facto leader of the biggest army in the galaxy. I think certain amount of handshaking comes with the territory."

Ivanova snorted as she gave him his glass. "You're the one to talk. I saw you slip out to the balcony when the League ambassadors arrived."

She knocked back her drink and then sat down on the couch besides him, leaning back and closing her eyes. "Days like these, I miss working in the C&amp;C. Incoming ships rarely expected you to have an opinion on proposed agricultural directives."

"Or asked you to make a statement supporting tighter immigration laws as a precaution to a possible drafa epidemic on a planet where the population does not even have yellow or green cells." Franklin finished his drink, the liquor burning his throat on the way down. "So, how is Minbar? Delenn been keeping you busy?"

She thought about his question for a few seconds before answering.

"It's different. Sometimes exciting. But mostly different. And Delenn is... Delenn is Delenn." She reached for the empty vodka bottle, giving it a shake, and then sighed as if disappointed that it had not been magically refilled. "She still misses him terribly."

Franklin nodded. "We all do."

He had been thinking about it all through the reception, about how seeing all the familiar faces - the old gang, as Garibaldi had called it - at Sheridan's memorial almost made him forget that the man they were celebrating wasn't among them anymore. "I can't believe it's been a year."

"I know."

They were quiet for a while, both lost in their thoughts, until Franklin suddenly sat up.

"Oh, I almost forgot." He reached for the bag he'd brought along and dug around for a few seconds before pulling out an interestingly shaped bottle. "Courtesy of Emperor Cotto the First, a bottle of the finest Brivari ever seen outside Centauri Prime." He fumbled with the cork until it came off with a loud pop.

Ivanova gave the bottle a dubious look. "Are you sure that's safe to drink?"

"Trust me, I'm a doctor." He took their glasses and filled them. "To Sheridan."

Ivanova didn't look convinced, but raised her glass with him nevertheless.

"To Sheridan."

They emptied their glasses in tandem, but Franklin was the first to grimace. "Oh, that's... oh."

Ivanova's expression matched his. "The aftertaste is also rather interesting." She shook her head. "Suddenly I understand Londo so much better."

Still trying to adjust to the surprising strength of the drink, Franklin reached for the Brivari bottle and idly tried to decipher the label.

"Did you know that unlike what we call alcohol, Brivari is not actually a poison for humans, and instead directly effects the endorphin receptors."

Ivanova laughed. "No, I think I can safely say that I did not know that."

He put the bottle down and looked at her. With Garibaldi, she was his oldest surviving friend. Someone who had seen him at his best and at his worst, and was still there twenty years later, sitting next to him. Emboldened by the warm glow of the alien liquer in his stomach, he turned to her as he cradled the bottle in his lap.

"We should have dinner together," he said, and then continued before she could say anything. "Just the two of us, I mean. I love Mary like she was my own daughter, but if Michael makes me watch the vid of her winning the Mars regionals one more time I will probably have to shoot him." He looked at her hopefully. "What do you think?"

Ivanova arched her brow. "Did you just ask me out, Doctor?"

Franklin smiled and poured himself another glass of Brivari. "Maybe."


End file.
